The Secret in the Briefcase
by WishUponADragon
Summary: Pelant is gone, Bones and Booth are getting married, and everything is perfect again. Well, you know, aside from the murders. Tell me what you think, constructive criticism is highly encouraged!
1. The Man in the Alley

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from Bones. **

At 4:27 a.m., Dr. Temperance Brennan was awoken from the first peaceful sleep she'd had in months by the sound of two cell phones receiving calls. She blearily noted that it was Cam's ringtone from her phone, and the FBI's from Booth's, and answered.

"Hi, Cam," she said quietly, trying not to wake the baby.

"Morning, Brennan. There's been a murder. I'll text you the address. Can you be here in fifteen minutes?"

The word 'murder' worked like a cup of coffee for Brennan. "Yeah. I'm going to drop Christine off at day-care, I'll be right there."

Nearby, Booth was having a similar conversation. "Sure, I'll be there soon."

Cam watched the team work with a sense of great pride. Even before the sun was up, they had reported to the crime scene. The alley behind the pub was a tight squeeze, and only a few people could stand side-by-side. Still, there was Hodgins, collecting particulates, and Brennan examining the partially decomposed skeleton by the dumpster. Booth questioned the owner of the pub while Angela snapped photos of the crime scene.

The FBI crime techs helped Hodgins put the evidence in the van, while Brennan headed over to Cam to discuss the case.

"Report?" she asked, eager to know what Brennan had found.

"It looks like a mugging, but we won't know for sure until I examine the body at the Jeffersonian. The victim is male, mid-thirties. I'd put time of death around 72 hours ago, and Hodgins says insect activity confirms this time frame. Rapid decomp is most likely due to the bacteria-growing conditions of the alley. Also, there is evidence of animal scavenging."

"Ok, first of all, ew." Cam and Brennan were not particularly surprised to hear Angela voice her opinion of the matter. The artist wasn't known for her strong stomach. "Second, how long until I can do a facial reconstruction?"

"The skull is severely damaged, you'll have to wait until I can put it together, and I can't do that until the bones are clean. Sorry Ang."

"Ok, not a problem. Until then, do I really have to be here? I was going to take Michael-Vincent to the park today, you know, it being the first Pelant free day we've had in while." A smile lit her face. "Want me to bring Christine with us? She could do with some time away from day-care."

Brennan nodded. "I still can barely believe it. Just over twenty-four hours and we're back at work. Booth says it feels like the world should have stopped turning, but that's highly irrationally because the motion of the planet is not dependent..."

Angela cut her off. "You know what, honey, stop with the rationality for a second and listen to me."

Brennan looked like she'd been slapped. "I can't stop being rational, we're at a crime scene Ang." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, despite the fact that their boss was only a foot away.

Cam sighed. "No, no, please continue, Ang, I think Brennan probably needs to hear what you were going to say. Anyways, I think we're just about ready to go back to the lab." She walked away to check with Hodgins that this was true, leaving Angela and Bones to talk.

Angela looked at Brennan, her face more serious than was usual for the artist. "I guess you're sort of right, just because the mess with Pelant is over doesn't mean that there won't be murders we have to solve. The world won't stop, and neither should we. But I don't think Booth was talking about killers when he said that the world should stop turning."

It took Brennan a moment to understand what Angela was talking about. "You mean the wedding?"

Angela nodded slowly, the look on her face conveying that she should not have to explain this to Brennan. "This is a big deal, honey. It means a lot to Booth that you said yes, so I say if the world wants to stop turning, let it. We're all happy for you, and you should just enjoy the moment. Do that, sweetie. Just..." she breathed in sharply, and let the air out while raising her arms in what Brennan assumed to be a gesture of relaxation. "Enjoy the moment." She put her arms back down. "Think you can handle that?"

Brennan's expression slowly changed from incredulous to a rare, genuine, smile and she nodded. "Yes. I think I can do that."

Angela grinned at her friend. "Excellent! Now, let's get back to the Jeffersonian before I puke."


	2. The Problem in the Advice

Bones leaned over the freshly cleaned fragments of skull sitting on the examination table. In truth, she could probably have let Angela do a facial reconstruction immediately because the damage was mostly to the left temporal bone. Angela didn't need the ear to create a face for this person, but Brennan had wanted to be sure all the pieces were there before an animal scavenger could get out of accessible reach.

As far as she could tell, the skull appeared to be all there, so she began piecing the complex puzzle back together. Hours passed with Brennan concentrating solely on the shattered bones before her, unaware of the world outside her lab, and the skull slowly but surely reformed under her careful fingers. She was nearly done when Cam came by to ask if she'd made progress.

Cam had barely entered the room when Dr. Brennan noticed her. She gingerly set the skull down and looked up at Cam, anticipating what she would ask. "Almost done. Also, I feel very confident in saying that the cause of death was being hit in the head. Paramortem staining around the wound to the skull supports this, and the break is consistent with blunt force trauma." She frowned at the skull, before experimentally swinging her arms like a baseball player, mentally checking her theory. "It seems most consistent with a long object swung by a right handed person. We should have Hodgins check for particulates, and ask Ang to run a few scenarios."

Cam nodded, her hands clasped in front of her. "Very good, Dr. Brennan. I'll go get Hodgins." She turned and left the room, more than a little concerned for her friend. Brennan was always factual, but this had seemed almost like she hadn't wanted to discuss anything except the case with Cam. She had been careful to provide everything Cam could ask before she spoke. Cam sighed quietly, and changed course from Hodgin's lab to Angela's.

The artist's studio was by far the prettiest room in the Jeffersonian, with colorful walls and paintings and statues. It was dominated by a large computer screen and to the left a platform for holographic images. Angela stood in front of the computer trying to recreate a face from a picture she'd taken of the incomplete skull.

"Hey Ang, is this a good time?" Cam asked. Angela was as engrossed in her work as Dr. Brennan, and turned quickly in surprise.

"Yeah, of course, Cam. What do you need to talk about?" Ang set the tablet she'd been using to work on the large screen on the coffee table behind her and gestured to the couch.

Cam declined the offer and remained standing. She hated to be to formal but on occasion she had to remind the artist that she was in fact her boss. "What exactly did you tell Brennan this morning? I stopped by the lab to see how she was doing and she blew me off with facts about the case."

Angela didn't seem too surprised by this, although perhaps a bit disappointed. "It is Dr. Brennan, but I really don't think anything I said today would have caused her to shut down. I pretty much just told her to enjoy the moment, and that we're all happy because she and Booth are happy." Ang thought for a moment. "I guess I also said that murders wouldn't stop happening, and we shouldn't stop solving them."

Cam let out her I-see-what's-happening-here sigh. "Oh, Ang. The first part was sweet, but when Booth isn't around, you basically told Brennan to work." Understanding lit across Angela's face as Cam continued speaking. "She should be planning her wedding. And if she's going to be obsessed with work, then I suppose we'll just have to do it for her."

Angela flashed a humongous grin at her new coconspirator. "I'll find a dress."

Cam felt guilty about her plan for a moment, but then mirrored Ang's grin. "I know a priest." The friends nodded to each other, and set about their tasks. Ang retrieved her tablet and turned back to her computer, and Cam ran off to find Hodgins before making a phone call to an old friend of hers.


	3. The Evidence in the Scoliosis

"Booth," he answered roughly. It had been a long and trying day, and Booth really hoped that whoever was calling from the Jeffersonian had some good news. He'd spent it behind the desk watching the security feeds from the pub with Sweets. On the night in question, it seemed that almost everyone in the pub had gone out to the alley, where there were no cameras, maybe to settle a fight, or perhaps to discuss less-than-legal business without prying ears.

Brennan responded, serious as usual, but Booth could almost hear the smile when she spoke. "Hi, Booth. Angela identified our victim, one Gregory Hobson. I've sent his information to your phone. No next of kin, it seems like his life revolved around work. Do you want me to come with you to question his boss?"

Booth quickly checked the information she'd sent. It was true; this man didn't appear to have an aspect of his life that wasn't wrapped up in the HillsboughCorperation. "No, I'm going to bring him here for questioning. I'll see you soon, Bones."

"Alright. See you soon," she responded happily before hanging up. Booth showed Sweets the picture that had matched the skull, and left him to find the victim on the security feeds while he went to get the man's boss.

Back at the lab, Brennan set about examining the remains that she had neglected while putting the skull together. She frowned at a seemingly inconsistency with the vertebrae. The way they were shaped wouldn't have worked in a living person, the spinal cord would have been squeezed too tightly. Since they hadn't found evidence of a wheelchair at the crime scene, or evidence that he had been dragged there, the man had to have walked to the alley under his own power, thus ruling out the possibility that his legs were impaired by a spinal condition. She nudged the vertebrae just a bit out of alignment, and the bones fit together as they should. Bones tilted her head, forming a mental picture of what that meant the person would have looked like.

His condition, scoliosis, meant that he would have constantly leaned slightly to the left. It wasn't a very bad case, but enough to be painful. It would also have been noticeable, and may have been a source of embarrassment. Bones took a closer look at the left clavicle, curious to see if Hobson had tried self-therapy to correct the leaning. A developing stress fracture proved her theory correct, and again, lack of evidence found at the crime scene helped her put the pieces together.

Excited with the break in the case, Bones went to find Cam. She was in her office, and was just putting her phone away after a conversation that must have gone well. She smiled at Bones when she came in. "Hello Dr. Brennan. Any luck with the case?"

Brennan composed herself and responded matter-of-factly. "Yes. I have found evidence suggesting that the victim had scoliosis and tried to treat it himself, presumably with a heavy object that he carried by attaching it to a strap that he placed across his body, so he carried it with his left shoulder while the bag was on the right." Brennan made a line with her hands, going from her left shoulder to right hip to illustrate the point.

Cam considered this. "How often would he have worn this?" Brennan saw her boss reaching the same conclusion she had reached earlier, and replied in a self-satisfied manner.

"He would only have taken it off to sleep. But..." she trailed off, knowing that Cam understood.

"It wasn't at the crime scene," Cam finished. Brennan nodded. "We need to find out what was in the bag," Cam said. "Tell Booth, maybe the victim's boss would know." Brennan nodded again, and left to go call Booth.

When she was sure Brennan was gone Cam took out her phone and texted Angela. _Maybe we should go ahead and order the flowers too,_ she wrote._ And the cakes._

Angela responded quickly. _Why's that?_

_She's really into this case._

_She's really into all our cases._

_Five minutes into examining the bones she determines a possible motive for murder. She is not going to pay much attention to anything else for a while._

_Ohhhhh. I'll call the bakery._

_Good, I'll see if the flower store on 8th street does deliveries._


	4. The Briefcase in the Bag

Booth sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared at the man in the interrogation room. Leonard Newman seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, a honest man. So honest, in fact, that he'd already informed Booth of not only his location on the night of the murder, but the location of at least a dozen other employees of the company who were with him at the massive celebration of the HillsbourghCorporation's success this quarter.

He'd also told him his social security number, past work history, and was now jabbering to the one way mirror a detailed description of every beanie baby collectable he owned. And it all had to be recorded, just in case the man spat out something relevant to the case. Booth highly doubted this would happen, so he sent Sweets in to speak to Leonard, cutting him off in the middle of describing the '2008 Beanie Baby Convention Blue Variant Commemorative Bear.'

Sweets sat across from Leonard and smiled, which Booth took to mean he was trying to appear friendly to make the suspect open up to telling him more useful information. Sweets doubtlessly would have described the technique in some form of psychobabble, but Booth knew that was what it boiled down to.

Leonard eyed him warily. "Am I in trouble?"

Sweets shrugged amiably. "Not right now. You're only in trouble if you did something wrong. Now I just need to know a little more about your job. Specifically about one of your employees, Gregory Hobson. What did he do?"

Without really responding to the question, Leonard nodded vigorously. "Yes, Gregory. He was my best worker, it's a shame what happened to him."

Not quite sure if he would continue, Sweets waited expectantly, but it soon became evident that Leonard was done talking. "Ok, so he's a good worker... Anything else? Your company works alongside museums, correct?"

"That's right. We find things of historical value or interest, and manage which museums get which exhibits. My employees and I, including poor Mr. Hobson, work with dinosaur bones. We help excavate new dig sites, identify the dinosaurs, assemble them, and transport them to their new and loving museum homes." Now that Leonard had stopped rambling, he sat up straighter and spoke with pride. It was obvious he loved his job, and it faintly reminded Booth of Bones.

Sweets gave a nod of understanding. "And what were you working on three days ago? Anything particularly important?"

Leonard scowled. "No, my team was doing absolutely nothing that day, because the other fossil team stole the biggest case of our career. Someone found a whole herd of Xixianykus in China. So, their team lead, Comell, went to our supervisor and told him that the new guy they hired specialized in Xixianykus, and he let them have the whole case to themselves. But, they missed the end-of-quarter party, so joke's on them," he said bitterly.

After he'd paused to take this in, Sweets continued. "So, nothing important happened at all? And Gregory's... rivals, I suppose?... were on their way to China?"

"No, we aren't rivals, just competition. Usually we work together on large projects, but everyone has a specialty, right? They normally take the cases with big dinosaurs, we usually take the smaller ones, which is why it's so unfair that they got the Xixianykus case, the thing is only about this big!" He held his hands a few feet apart to show how tiny the reptile was. A look of horror suddenly crossed his face. "Did you happen to find a messenger bag with Gregory? Its contents are company property, it is vital that it is returned."

This caught Sweet's interest immediately. "No, we didn't find anything, what did you say was in this briefcase?"

Leonard shook his head. "It is company property. I can provide a description of the bag, but not it's contents. I don't know what's in it, only that every day since we got back from a dig in Europe five years ago he's carried that thing around, claiming that it's company property and refusing to tell anyone else what's in it." He thought for a moment, then brightened. "Actually, I did see what he keeps in there once. It was a briefcase, which I thought was weird that he didn't just carry the briefcase."

Sweets stood to leave. "Thank you for your cooperation, we'll have our sketch artist come talk to you." He left the room, and Booth was beside him as soon as the door shut.

"So our vic carried a briefcase everywhere, but it wasn't at the crime scene. We need to tell Bones, this could be motive for murder." Booth whipped out his phone and started to dial, but stopped when he realized he had seventeen missed calls from Bones. "Uh, I think my ringer was off. Any shrink-y advice on how to make her not mad?"

He turned the phone so Sweets could see. Sweets read the missed call memos and flinched. "Not really. Be very apologetic. And don't blame the phone, just tell her you forgot the ringer was off."

"But the ringer was on, it got turned off in my pocket!"

"Yeah, but that will just make her..."

"BOOTH!" Booth and Sweets froze at the sound of a very angry Bones storming down the hall. She glared furiously at both of them. "I called you seventeen times! Why didn't you pick up?" Her anger quickly turned to hurt, making Booth feel extremely guilty.

"I'm sorry Bones, I forgot my ringer was off, it's completely my fault." In an attempt to cheer her up, Booth moved on to the case, trying to be as enthusiastic as possible. "We found out something about the case. Apparently our vic went everywhere with a messenger bag, but it wasn't at the crime scene. I'm thinking motive? Also, his boss can describe the bag and the briefcase he keep in it."

The glare Bones gave him could have melted a snowman. "That is exactly what I've been trying to tell you for a hour. If you had picked up your phone, you would have already known about it." She whirled around to stalk off angrily, but turned back to face Booth, not glaring as she had earlier. "I scheduled the wedding for tomorrow at six in your church. Does that work for you?"

Booth responded by kissing her while Sweets awkwardly moved a few feet away. "Whatever you want is perfect for me. Big, little, or on a volcano with a Polynesian tribe."

This elicited a laugh from Bones. "That's nice Booth, but know you don't want a wedding on a volcano. I should study the bones some more, but I'll see you later!" She bounded off to the lab, significantly happier than when she'd approached them.

"Well, that wasn't too bad. I thought she was going to explode," Sweets said with relief. "So, you two have the wedding all planned?"

"Yeah, it's a small service, just us and the pastor. Then we're getting a small cake to eat at home. It's the being married that counts, not the huge wedding, right?"

"I think if that's what you want then it's what you should do. I'm happy for you and Bones."

"Thanks, Sweets. Now, we really should go talk to the other people from Hillsbourgh."


	5. The Men in the Alley

Friday, 12:30 am

The man ripped the messenger bag open as he stalked away from the alley, the bone he'd hidden under his large coat poking him in the side. Blood had not yet begun to pool where he'd hidden Gregory Hobson from view. He jerked the briefcase out and discarded the bag in the next alley he came to. The thought of looking in the case occurred to him, but he resisted the temptation until he was back in the small hotel room. He set the case gingerly on the bed and opened it with care.

If he was the type of man to smile, then a grin would have split his face. Instead, he double-checked his arrangement for a taxi at a more decent hour of the morning and got in the bed. He didn't lose a wink of sleep that night.

Monday, 2:30 pm

Brennan appeared in the doorway of Cam's office, and hardly waited until she had her attention before speaking. "The victim's boss says he carried a briefcase in a messenger bag. The bag was most likely to make his scoliosis less noticeable, but we don't know what was in the case. Booth agrees that the case was probably motive for the murder."

Cam nodded at this new information. "Great. So now we have cause of death and motive. We just need a killer and a murder weapon."

"Ok, not sure why you would want a killer, I try to stay away from them myself," Angela interrupted, "but I may be able to help with the murder weapon." She had appeared behind Brennan and gestured for Cam and Brennan to follow her.

Back in her own lab, Angela pulled up the simulations she'd run given the fracture to the skull. "So, cause of death is blunt force trauma, right? That is what you call getting hit really hard in the head?" she jokingly asked Brennan.

"Yes, that is correct," Brennan answered with a perfectly straight face.

Angela waited to see if her friend was serious, before recalling that she was always serious. "Right. So, the murder weapon has to be round-ish," Two people appeared on the screen facing each other. One held what looked like a pipe. "There wasn't a lot of room in the alley to swing, so pretty short, but dense and swung at a high speed." The figure on screen swung the pipe at the other, causing them to collapse.

"But this didn't produce the correct fracture pattern, no matter which scenario I ran, so I got a bit creative. I added a knob here, see?" Angela pointed to the screen, which had reset itself to be the two people facing each other. There was now a protrusion on the end of the pipe. "So it struck him at two points at once, like this." The scene replayed, the fracture pattern matching the one on the skull this time.

Cam nodded, pleased with how quickly her team was working. "Good work, Angela. Hodgins should be done examining any particulates he found by now, maybe we can find out what it's made-"

"Bone." Brennan cut Cam off, still staring at the screen. "The murder weapon is a bone."

Before Cam and Angela could question Brennan, Hodgins rushed in. "You will never believe what particulates I found in the head wound," he said excitedly.

"Is it bone?" Cam guessed.

Hodgins narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out if she was messing with him. "No, but close. Scarily close. It's plaster, the kind they use to make molds of dinosaur fossils. It's designed to be almost identical to bone, but there are a few differences. How did you..."

Brennan answered, annoyed that she'd gone with her instinct, as Booth would tell her to do, and was wrong. "The murder weapon is short, dense, and irregularly shaped. And now we know it's made of plaster meant to be shaped like dinosaur bones. The logical conclusion is that the murder weapon is a mold of a dinosaur bone."

"Good work, guys. I'll tell Booth we know what to be looking for. In the meantime, Ang, the vic's boss has a description of the bag and case, you should make a sketch. Brennan, see if you can get anything else from the bones, and Hodgins, don't blow anything up." Cam gave her instructions an returned to her office to call Booth.

Angela sighed. "I hate Mondays."


	6. Brennan in Bones

Booth came home to find Brennan feeding Christine mashed peas and playing Dancing Phalanges. He watched them for a minute, happy that Brennan could play with Christine. Then he came up behind Brennan and hugged her. It didn't take very long for Brennan to return the hug.

"So, tomorrow's our big day," he said. "You ready?"

"Well, I don't see how I could be ill prepared, we're just going to talk to the priest and he'll say we're married now."

"Just say yes, Bones."

"Yes."

"There we go! Now, you wanna talk about the case?" He took over feeding Christine, who clapped and blew bubbles at him. "Aw, who likes Daddy? Is it you?"

"Unless you want her to have a speech impediment, you should speak in a normal voice around Christine. So, did you find the murder weapon?"

"No, but we found the messenger bag the vic's boss was talking about in an alley down the street from the crime scene. It's empty."

"So whatever's in the briefcase must be what the murderer was after. Booth, don't put so much food in her mouth, small bites!"

"Ah, it's ok, Bones, Christine can handle some more peas, can't you? Yes, you ca- Oh." Christine spat the peas back in Booth's face, giggling after she did so and pointing to him happily. "Bones, could you pass me a towel?"

"I told you not to give her that much." Brennan reached for a towel on the counter and passed it to Booth.

"Yeah, you did, Bones. Your knowledge is utterly superior to mine. Do you want to finish feeding her?"

"No, she's done eating. I need to give her a bath, though. I didn't find any more injuries to the bones that were less than three years old. It seems like he broke his left hand a lot, like he was using a hammer? Maybe tools he used to excavate dinosaur bones?"

"That would make sense. Oh, Sweets was talking to some of his shrink friends, some of them remember cases where sensitive information or irreplaceable valuable stuff that the vic never showed anyone was taken, and get this; a lot of the ones where the vic got his head bashed in weren't solved."

"So, it's a serial killer? So soon after Pelant? Would you start getting her bath ready?" Brennan picked up Christine and bounced her. Christine waved her arms, so Brennan brought her hand up, and Christine grabbed her fingers. "That's right, Dancing Phalanges!"

"Yeah, I can start her bath. But Sweets doesn't think it's a serial killer, he thinks it's someone whose job is getting thing for other people. Like whatever's in the case."

"A hit man."

"Exactly!"

"So, we're back to needing to know what's in the case."

"Not exactly. Sweets got us the other case files, I thought we could use evidence from those cases to pinpoint our murderer, if you can tie the cases together."

"That's assuming it's the same guy."

"It's the same guy. The victims all have the same fracture patterns you found, and all of them are archeologists who were holding onto something for whoever they work for. Pretty big coincidence, huh?"

"That's not coincidence, Booth, that's MO."

"Exactly. Now, whose ready for a bath? Is it Christine? I think it is, come here, baby." Booth took Christine and began cleaning her off. "I think her pajamas are in the drawer, could you get them Bones?"

"Sure. The red onesie?"

"No, that's too hot, can you get the pink? It's a bit lighter."

"Found it. I wish this case was that easy."

Booth took the onesie and Brennan helped him dress Christine. "You know that's not true, Bones. You only like solving murders because it's hard. If all the killers were suddenly idiots and left obvious trails, you'd move on to something more difficult."

"You mean like raising a baby?"

"Just like that. Look how cute she is, she's so sleepy." Booth held up Christine and Brennan had to smile. She really was adorable in her Minnie Mouse pajamas.

"Do you want me to put her to bed?" Booth handed Christine to Brennan, and immediately Christine reached out her arms to ask for Dancing Phalanges. Brennan gave them to her, and set her down in her crib.

"Nah, she'll fall asleep on her own. Enough about the case, we can deal with it tomorrow. Let's just go watch TV."

"For once, I have to agree, I'm done solving murders tonight. Cam and Ang were acting strange all day, it's starting to freak me out."

"You? Getting freaked out? I'd have to see that to believe it. Anyways, I'm sure they were just in shock that their friend is getting married. Too fast for them, I guess."

"Yeah. You're probably right, Booth. You know people as well as I know bones."

"That's a high compliment there."

"You know it's true."

"Never thought I'd hear you say it, though."

"Are we going to watch TV or not?"

"Just as soon as I find the remote."

**A/N: I don't usually write author's notes, I prefer to let my story speak for itself, but I need to ask all my wonderful and NOT easily upset readers a question. How mad would you be if I gave Bones a dragon? I promise I could explain the existence of said dragon in a logical way. And Bones wouldn't be out of character, I wouldn't make her acknowledge something that can't exist. I sort of have a different plot if you don't like genetically modified dinosaurs, but I just realized how perfect the murder would be with an idea I've wanted to try with Bones for a while. Please let me know!**


	7. The Murder Within the Murder

Brennan looked between the five case files on her desk. One was the file she was building for the case in progress, already larger than most of the cases constructed by the usual law enforcement. The cases were linked by the fact that the victims were archeologist who worked with dinosaurs, and their skulls had been bashed in on the left side. Then there was the fact that they all were carrying briefcases identical to the one Gregory Hobson had but the cases weren't found.

The police hadn't managed to piece the skulls together, so Brennan had the bodies brought to the lab. She had put two back together so far, and set Daisy on reconstructing the other two. Brennan probably wouldn't have let her, except Cam reminded her how Daisy had put a completely shattered pelvis together when she started working at the Jeffersonian. Angela confirmed that the murder weapon and force used in the murder were identical. Cam and Brennan agreed that it was done by the same person.

At the moment, Brennan was checking the work done by the police to see if their evidence was relevant to her case, or the other four cases that the Jeffersonian had declared as their own. There was trace evidence from at some of the crime scenes, like the hair from the earliest case that matched one the Jeffersonian team had found. What interested her about that case was the fact that a murderer had been identified, but never caught.

She sent the file on Henry Jones to Booth, and was waiting to hear back. In the meanwhile, she had decided to look at the case to make sure the police had identified the real killer. It was a good case. They had a sketch from an eyewitness that matched the picture of Jones. The ground he'd committed the crime on was sandy, and they had a boot print that matched his size and a pair of work boots he'd purchased a week prior to the murder. He claimed to be home alone at the time of the murder, which translated to no alibi. He'd been in possession of a plaster mold of a femur from an Edmonosaurus,which Angela said could have made the fracture patterns from their vic, and Hodgins said would match the plaster he'd found.

If Booth could find him, Brennan was sure she could make the case hold up in court. So, when Booth showed up at her lab, she was thrilled, if a bit surprised he didn't just call to say he'd found Jones.

"Hi Booth. Did you find him? I can tie the other murders to this guy if we can get him on the first one."

"Yeah, 'bout that. Bad news, Bones, Henry Jones is dead. He has been since about a month after the first murder. It was in a different state, so the police didn't make the connection."

"But if he's dead, who committed the other murders?"

"Maybe the real killer set him up, then got rid of the scapegoat. Did the police have any information on the eyewitness?"

Brennan found the information they had about the man who'd claimed to see the murder. "Alfred Weatherby." She held up a picture of a dark haired man with a beak-like nose. "Do you think he did it?"

"Yeah, it was his first murder, so, he set up Jones to give the police someone else to look at, then got rid of his scapegoat. We'll finish solving the murder later, Bones, it's 5:20, it'll take at least a half hour to drive to the church and park."

"Ok, just let me tell Cam I'm leaving." Brennan closed the files and stacked them on top of each other. She walked quickly to Cam's office. "Cam, I'm leaving for the day, well, I might be back later, but probably not."

Cam stood from her place at the desk. "Wait, where are you going?"

"My wedding's in 40 minutes. Bye, Cam!"

"Wait, what? Your wedding's on Friday!"

"No, it's at 6 o'clock today at Booth's church. Where'd you get Friday?"

Cam blushed, suddenly realizing her mistake. "Ang and I planned your wedding for you. Don't be mad, it's just, you were really busy with the case, and we thought it would be nice, and we already sent the invitations." She stopped talking while Brennan glared at her. "Are you mad?"

"Yes! Really, Cam, you didn't think I could handle my personal life, that's hurtful. Who did you invite?"

"Your dad, Russ and his family, Booth's granddad and Parker, the Jeffersonian team, the squinterns, Booth's FBI team, Sweets, just, you know, friends and family."

Brennan shook her head. "Ok. I have to go now, we'll talk when I get back." She hurried over to where Booth was waiting to leave.

"Hey, what's wrong, Bones? You look upset," Booth asked, worried.

"It's nothing. Well, it's not nothing, but not important right now." She walked with Booth towards the car, but realized she couldn't not tell him. "Cam and Ang planned our wedding."

"Well, it was sweet of them to do that. I'm surprised Angela would let you get married in the clothes you wore to work."

"Not this wedding, they planned another one without telling me! Do they not trust me enough to let me plan my own wedding?"

"They were probably worried you'd have it with a Polynesian tribe on a volcano. Don't worry about it Bones, we'll just treat that one like a giant reception. It'll be ok."

"Ok. But, Booth, they invited Russ and Max."

"Don't worry, Bones, I'm not going to arrest your dad or your brother at our reception. Now let's go, we'll be late!"


End file.
